


Jitterbug

by meliapis



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: F/M, Hero!Reader - Freeform, Slow Dancing, Spider!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-15 05:19:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18492175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meliapis/pseuds/meliapis
Summary: Then, there was Peter. Old fashioned, Nazi-punching Peter who said he couldn’t feel a thing, yet was the kindest man you’d ever met.





	Jitterbug

Dimension hopping seemed to have only gotten easier in the handful of times it had occurred. Sure, it was random the first time and perhaps partially the second one, too, but the atom glitching didn’t happen as often. Also, the trips were relaxing and full of fun occasions with your fellow spider people.

Miles was like a younger brother and you were always happy to see him along with your future tech-wizard, Peni, and badass ballerina feet, Gwen. They were a bunch of sweethearts and you wouldn’t hesitate to throw yourself off a burning building for them.

Peter B. was a lot like your uncle back home. Not only did they lounge around in sweatpants, but they had big hearts and enjoyed lazy days in. You looked up to him despite his many flaws and he was a hell of a listener when you needed one.

Porker never ceased to make you smile. You were especially fond of him and his odd genetic makeup as you grew up with cartoons. He was living nostalgia and being able to brighten up a dark scene with one drop of an anvil was a heck of a talent.

Then, there was Peter. Old fashioned, Nazi-punching Peter who said he couldn’t feel a thing, yet was the kindest man you’d ever met. You’d think someone coming from his day and age would take some getting used to as you drew from the same year as Miles, but out of everyone, you grew comfortable around him the quickest.

Peter B, blamed it on the two of you being near the same age, Peni and Porker swore it was because you were fated lovers, and Miles, along with Gwen, liked to think it was the classic “opposites attract” deal.

Besides the bright light work on Peni’s robot companion and the white of Gwen’s suit, you were the brightest Spider and colorful, too. Yellow made up the main components of your suit with black seams and a hood so large it was sewed from one elbow to another. It was basically a cape if it wasn’t draped over your head, though, with the six spikes weighing it down it was rarely anywhere else.

 _“Reminds me of a sunflower,”_ May said when you’d shown up at her door. She looked nothing like the aunt you’d lost in your universe, but her mannerisms were the same as ever.

Everyone had agreed, except for Peter B. who’d made an offhand comment that you had way too big of thorns to be such.

_“They’re spikes.”_

_“I was trying to be funny.”_

_“Yeah, well, I think you failed.”_

You missed that bagel-loving dork. He and the others were out beating crime. You hoped he and his MJ were doing good back in their time, you hadn’t gotten a chance to ask.

“Running a bit late, aren’t they?”

You hummed, sipping the last few drops of your tea. May sat opposite to you, stirring her second cup. “They’ll have a good reason,” you assure her.

“Oh, they always do. You heroes never rest,” she muttered into her drink. You laughed softly.

Ever since the first dimension jump, all the Spiders usually rendezvoused at her quaint, little home. Today had been one of those occasions where you all engaged with one another and caught up on the happenings of New York City in different worlds. Miles had grown taller, Peter B. slimmer, Porker sillier. Peni and her updated SP//dr friend hadn’t changed except in age and Gwen was as feisty as ever.

Of course, Peter was as charming as the first time you’d met him.

“Thanks for always letting us all meet up here. It’s great to see everyone from time to time,” you tell May gratefully.

“I’m sure if quantum physics wasn’t being such a pain in the behind, you and achromic would be seeing each other every other day,” she chuckled sending you into a quiet, flustered state.

“We’re working on it.” And you were. With so many smart minds conjoining in one universe, it wouldn’t be long before you found a safer and permanent solution to yours and Peter’s problem.

“I know. Don’t lose hope, alright?” The wise woman winked at you. “Peni and all her futuristic gadgets are bound to pick up the slack we can’t in old 2019.”

Nodding in agreement, you took your cup and saucer to the sink to clean. You went ahead and started on the other ones in there as well despite May’s refusal.

Peter and the rest would be back soon enough, but you needed something to do. He’d gone with the others after hearing a distress call and you were forced to stick it out here due to a leg injury from back home that had followed you here, unfortunately. It was nearly healed, but Noir wasn’t taking any chances and neither were the others.

“Well, I’ve been avoiding my work in the lab long enough,” May announced, standing from the small dining room table. “I’d ask if you want to tag along but I’m sure you’d rather wait for Peter.”

“Yeah. Thanks for the invitation, though. It’s always a pleasure to see your weapons.”

“Thanks, hon. Don’t leave without saying goodbye, alright?” she called as she opened the back door.

“I promise,” you replied, shutting the faucet off.

Left alone in the house, you searched from something else to preoccupy your time. With only a slight limp in your step, you made your way into the living room. TV was always an option, but the sight of a record player piqued your interest. The crate of music next to it beckoned you and in seconds you were rifling through the albums.

So many classics. You could tell May had good taste in music and she seemed to enjoy a few orchestra pieces. The one that stood out you, however, was an oldie from the 1960s.

As you settled the record onto its rotating plate and gingerly lowered the needle, the heavenly sound of Frank Sinatra filled the room.

“ _And now, the end is near_

_And so I face the final curtain_

_My friend, I’ll say it clear…”_

You wondered about the room, studying a bookshelf with vivid interest. There was a pang in your heart when you noticed a photo album with the Peter Parker of this universe’s name on it. If he was anything like the Peters you knew now, you’re sure he had been a great man.

_“I’ve traveled each and every highway_

_And more, much more than this_

_I did it my way…”_

You turned as the front door opened, sensing the arrival of a spider person. Peter walked in, mask most likely somewhere in the deep confinements of his trench coat. His dark vest and pants may have been outdated but not overly so that it would bring unnecessary attention to him.

“Where are the others?” you asked, worry quick to rise.

He raised a hand to calm you as he shut the door behind him. “Easy, doll. They headed over to some wing ding joint after our run-in with the goons.”

You couldn’t help but smile, both in relief and in amusement at his 30s slang. Even if you didn’t always understand him, you loved to hear the man talk.

“Sorry, we couldn’t dangle sooner. Hostage situation,” he explained as he strolled over to you.

“Maybe you would’ve gotten done sooner if you’d let me come with you.”

He met your irritated look and smiled. “Not with that busted drumstick of yours.”

“It’s not even that bad,” you huffed, crossing your arms as he stopped in front of you. When you glanced at him again he was focused on the record player and the words of the song.

_“Regrets, I’ve had a few_

_But then again, too few to mention_

_I did what I had to do…”_

“Nice platter,” he said, focusing back on you. Your pout faded.

“It’s Sinatra. He was pretty famous in the 60s,” you told him, earning a deep rumble from his chest in understanding.

“A little jitterbug, aren’t cha?”

You laughed, leaning your head to one side. “Translate please?”

“You love jazz,” he chuckled, offering his hand to you. “Means you like to dance to it, too.”

“I’m not that good…” You weren’t refusing him by any means, but you were hesitant in accepting his invitation as your palm covered his.

“I can’t see a woman like you being a dead-hoofer.” He guided you into a more open space as the music echoed. When the two of you stopped and his hands found your hips to pull you closer you thought your heart might stop right then and there.

Following his lead, you raised your arms to wrap them around his neck and squeaked as he lifted you onto his feet.

“I’d rather not ruin your gam again, if that’s alright?” he asked, eyes searching yours for any signs of distress.

“You’re too soft on me,” you mumbled, smiling as he began to sway with the delicate strings of the violin.

He leaned over you, careful of keeping you planted on his shoes. “You’re a treasure worth protecting, doll.”

_“I planned each charted course_

_Each careful step along the byway…”_

“We’re getting closer to coming up with a safer jumper,” he murmured. “Maybe I’ll finally get to take you out for that drink.”

“Maybe we’ll finally get more than two days together,” you sighed.

Rough fingers pushed your chin higher so that you’d look at him. You found that even if his wardrobe was always drab, you’d always have those brown eyes to enjoy.

“Here’s hoping, doll,” he whispered, leaning down.

You reposed against him as his lips met yours, the climax of the song fading into the background along with your thoughts.

_“I faced it all and I stood tall_

_And did it my way…”_


End file.
